Page 56 of A Match of Misfortune

Contented, Nash cautiously released his hold on her, allowing her to right herself in the seat next to him as well as she could. Then he peered out the window. Blast. They had come to a stop right in the middle of Oxford Street. He opened the door nearest him where there would be no oncoming carriages, and he cautiously glanced around to find the driver having climbed down from his seat to look beneath the carriage.

“What is it?” Nash asked.

There was an audible groan, and the man straightened, shaking his head. “The rear axle.”

A coachman behind them hollered something.

“What do you want me to do?” the Rothsburgs’ driver called back to him, tossing up a hand. “We’ve broken an axle. You’ll need to go around us.” He grunted something under his breath. “Louis?”

A footman stepped into view. “Yes, sir?”

The man’s gaze swept across the young footman in his livery, as if to verify he was in no way injured. “I’ll need you to hire a carriage for Mr. Markham and Miss Bradshaw, then see if you can get a smithy here to assist us. We need to get this carriage off the road as quickly as we can manage.”

“I’m happy to help with that,” Nash said, taking a step down. It was the least he could do.

The coachman considered Nash’s large frame. “I don’t doubt you would be useful, but with where the axle has split, we’ll need it reinforced before we can move it.”

Nash gave a nod. “Then to ease the burden of all that you must see to, Miss Bradshaw and I will walk the remainder of the way. Wimpole Street is not fifteen minutes from here on foot.” He glanced behind him at Cecily. “As long as that is acceptable to you?”

She reached out a hand for him, apparently eager to be out of the stranded, tilting carriage. “It is.”

The driver appraised them a moment. “If you’re both certain?”

“Most certain.” Nash lifted an arm to Cecily, who took hold of it. “Please send Lord Rothsburg and Lady Bridget my apologies.”

“It is not as though this is your doing.”

Cecily glanced over at Nash, a curious expression on her face as if she were attempting to decipher if he truly thought it his fault.

“Of course not. That would be absurd.” Nash hesitated. “But … regardless, tell him I’m sorry.”

Cecily covered her mouth with her hand.

When they had started on their way, Nash glanced over at her. “Is something humorous?”

“No.” Her smile betrayed her. “Not in the least.”

“Perhaps if you were to give me my luck back, I could stop causing disasters wherever I go.”

Her eyes were alight with humor. “What fun would that be?”

He pinned her with a look. “A deal is a deal. I’m complying with your end of the bargain. Perhaps we should have another go at my end.”

Cecily’s eyes widened. “Please tell me you are not referring to your suggestion that I kiss your hand?”

“What should I tell you, then, if not the truth?”

“You are ridiculous. Besides, I already fulfilled my part of the agreement. There was no stipulation that we must continue to try until your luck returned, only that I need speak the words you specified in an attempt to right the situation. Which I did.”

“So all I am to receive is a broken heart when you cast me aside once all of this is over?”

Cecily scoffed at his drollery, though he was only partially jesting. “You have always had a flare for the dramatics. However, lest you think you will receive no benefit, remember what Lady Bridget said about our being seen together and how it will aid your reputation.”

Nash stopped Cecily at the corner, letting a carriage pass before he led her across the street. “Not that I wish to question Lady Bridget, but considering how our shopping excursion went this morning, I’m not certain there is much credence in her theory.”

“It is your first day back in Society, and the ton is a fickle lot. It is to be expected that they will not instantly welcome you. But I do not doubt you will be as admired when you leave for India as when you first arrived.”

Nash smirked. “I think I’d rather have the kiss.”